I joined this page because I wanted to share my story with others.
I am not transgendered, though I was quite a tom-boy in my childhood. I remember my mother always saying to me when I wanted a truck, rather than a doll..."No, that's for boys". I had more guys as friends, so I could play with their toys more often. I could go further into the many situations throughout my life, where gender was forced on me, or forced onto others, but this blog isn't about me.
This is about my father-in-law. He recently passed away. On the outside, he was a manly-man. He wore the usual aftershave, wore blue jeans and button up shirts. He drank way too much, chain-smoked, and often came across bigotted against others. The thing is, none of it was real. He behaved this way to hide who he really was.
I knew the rumours, that he'd been caught playing "dress-up" by a few people in his life. If you knew him, it was hard to imagine it. He hadn't intended, when going to the hospital, that he'd never return to his home, or he likely would have purged a lot of his belonging. Judging by some of the things missing, that I realized used to be there (like a couple of wigs (Hair products, and various strands of synthetic hair), he had began doing so, but ran out of time. His health issues took him down fast and hard.
Going through his home brought me so much grief. First, of course the death. But more than that was a legacy of a man who felt forced to live a lie. On the surface, if you merely visited his home, it looked like that of any typical older man, a flawless facade, hiding his "shame", but that obviously wasn't who he wanted to be.
When I met this man, I wasn't sure that I liked him. My kid thought he was a jerk, the way he spoke of people of other races, sexuality, women. Yet, there was more to him; I sensed it. It took 5 years for him to actually warm up to me. I was just getting to know him when this happened. He stopped speaking out badly about others this year. He showed a kinder and gentler side. A year before, he quit drinking due to health problems, and it was much easier to hang out with him. In fact, I started to like him. That was the most devastating part of this. Maybe, given more time, he'd have felt comfortable opening up. Maybe the world would have changed around him to allow him at least a few years of being himself.
Under the surface, rummaging through his belongings, I realized that this was far more than a man who chose to merely dress up sometimes, and I realized quickly why he never wanted anyone to come over, including his own family. He was living as a woman. I will never know the extent of his pain; he spent his entire life drinking until he killed his brain and liver, lived his life lonely, and became so incredibly angry. I was so upset, realizing that if he'd only lived in an accepting and loving world, he wouldn't have needed to waste his life, holed up alone most of his life.
I wish I could talk to his family. The few who know hush me quickly, like it's a shameful secret that needs to stay that way. I will respect them. I feel no shame in who he was, but only for the fact that he had to live a lie. Shame on the world for doing that to him. I'm glad I got to know the whole truth, even if it came in such a painful way.
My heart goes out to those who are still out there today, living as he felt forced to, putting on a John Wayne mask, in hopes that nobody will ever find out. Everyone deserves to be who they feel inclined to be. I hope that soon, everyone will understand that, so the story of my father-in-law never needs to be anyone else's story.
*hugs*
